Zero to Six in Five and a Bit Minutes.

Note teeth…. ( count two )
You already know that I was born.
“Well, duh!”, you say, “how else would you be writing this rubbish?”
Yes, your head is screwed on right and all those wires and things are mostly connected right. However, the mere fact that you’re still continuing to read this means that all is not well. I mean, come on, would any right thinking person actually read this? They would? You insist you’re completely sane and normal? Well, you’d say that, wouldn’t you? Only the sanest people are insane and only the insane call themselves totally sane. To be normal is to be insane. Personally, I worry about those who call themselves normal. They really don’t know what you and I know. It’s so much more fun being abnormal, like me ….
Now, you’re wondering what that title means. Zero to Six in Five and a Bit Minutes means just that. I will give you a summary of my years from from Age of Zero to the Age of Six in Ten Minutes of Writing. ( Not Zorro, Zero! ) It may take you longer to read, but hell, that’s not my problem. You should have paid attention in English class, read more books, improved your comprehension and generally been a model student. Alas, I should talk, for I did none of the above and remained an average-to-slightly-below-average student. I have the marks to prove it, so there.
Anyway, I was born. This happened at 11:11:11 AM in an hospital on Ajmal Khan Road, in Karol Bagh, New Delhi, India, on my mother’s 39th birthday, and I well remember the party got a little out of hand. Mother Earth came knocking the next day and as the walls shook and the ground moved, my mother, so she said, made sure I wasn’t switched with another baby, an event that is distressingly common in India, if Bollywood movies are to be believed. ( I know, I know it’s a run on and on and on sentence…. )
I then ran around the neighbourhood, snotty, sometimes barefoot, in itchy wool pants in winter. Fought other little boys in ditches, had my head split open, managed to spill cement & lime dust from the construction site next door into my eyes, burned my little hand on a hot iron and generally made a nuisance of myself.
The family already had 7 kids. Yes, I counted and there were indeed 7 kids already in the house when I arrived. When I first started going to school in Kindergarten at the Frank Anthony Public School, my parents proudly boasted representation in every other class all the way up the school. We walked to school together. Older ones leading younger ones and so on down the line, until all of us were across the Ring Road and safely into school.
All this happened in Delhi. When I was six we moved to Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India on the western bulge of India. This was a completely different kettle of gathia and will be covered in another post, possibly titled “Six to Nine in Seven and a Half Minutes”.
Until then, or until my autobiography, titled “One Bluish Egg – A Faded Memory” comes out, ( RSN… ) I shall have to leave you with this short read. Disclaimer:This post is a plug. It is an advertisement, a commercial, if American.
It is short, isn’t it?
By the standards of this blog, it certainly is.
We may be turning over a new leaf. It is a new year after all.
Well, you never know.
Stay tuned.
Oh, and Happy New Year!